


Dad!Friends

by Crockzilla, notlucy



Series: Domesti-Kink with Spideypool [15]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Play, Dabbing, Dadpool, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Little!Bucky - Freeform, Little!Tony, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, Peggy Carter is Mary Poppins, captain ameridad, dad!friends, little!peter, sportsball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 09:21:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12701964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crockzilla/pseuds/Crockzilla, https://archiveofourown.org/users/notlucy/pseuds/notlucy
Summary: Peggy and Nat teach the kids to play baseball, and the Dads have a heart-to-heart.





	Dad!Friends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LomitoSuperSuavecito](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LomitoSuperSuavecito/gifts).



> This one is a co-write in the universes of Crockzilla's [Domesti-Kink with Spideypool](http://archiveofourown.org/series/782775) and notlucy's [Brownstone in Brooklyn](http://archiveofourown.org/series/804555) series. You probably don't need to have read everything in each 'verse to read this one, but it might help give some context for the dynamics. Pure fluff!

So, in spite of the Almost Disaster that their first play date had been, Wade and Peter had played with the Holy Trinity and Tony (and usually also Nat and Clint) a few times since then. They’d had a movie night, which had been awesome, and then Clint had found a park with an unusually sturdy playset that they all went to one evening (dressed out in their crime-fighting outfits, so the one passing patrol car probably thought they were just Avengers on a strange training exercise). This time, it had been Nat who’d called Wade in the middle of the week.

“Hey, Peg and I are both at the compound and we want to teach the kids to play baseball.”

Wade had blinked. It still took him a minute to get his bearings after seeing her name pop up on his phone. “Sure! I mean, if you – I don’t know if Peter – knows about – sportsball?”

Peter had been  _ stoked _ and had washed his Mets t-shirt three days ahead of time, because turns out he  _ did  _ know about sportsball, thank you very much (whether he could play it or not was a different matter but he  _ cared _ ). 

They arrived at the Avengers compound on a super nice Saturday morning to find everyone else already on the lawn, Peggy playing catch with Bucky as Tony watched, skeptically. Peter slid right into Little zone as soon as he saw his friends and ran straight to Natasha, who caught him up in a great big hug. Wade cooed internally – Nat  _ loved  _ being with Peter when he was Little. In fact, Nat loved being with any of the Littles at any given opportunity. Hmm...

Fighting the feeling of Don’t Belong that he always got in group type situations, Wade sidled up next to Cap, his dad!friend, who was watching Peg try to coax Tony into putting on the catcher’s mitt which he insisted was “ooky” (Tony and Bucky had both pretty quickly aged down now that their ringleader had arrived). Cap looked fetching and responsible as usual, also wearing a Mets jersey and a matching cap. (Heh.  _ Cap.  _ Get it?)

The cap wearing Cap in question had been dealing with his own apprehensions about the day out. Not because of anything to do with the kids, but because  it was the first time he’d worn his Mets jersey in public and it still felt  _ wrong  _ somehow. Sure, the Dodgers were gone and he’d be dead in the ground before he ever put on navy pinstripes. But still. It was a lot. And Wade Wilson was a welcome distraction.

“Morning,” he greeted, smiling at Wade, who (as usual) seemed completely relaxed about the situation. “How was your drive up?” Steve never could shake the feeling of being the most awkward person in the universe around people like Wade and (at least when he wasn’t Little) Tony, who always had a quip at the ready. Steve was a lot of things, but quick-witted wasn’t one of them - that had always been Bucky’s department, or Peggy’s. Still, he liked Wade, even if he’d taken some getting used to. And it was worth the awkwardness to have Bucky so happy, and to know Peter was well taken care of. Peter’s well-being was of particular importance to all of them, in fact. 

“Peachy -- we got through the first disc of the  _ Cats  _ OBC recording,” Wade said. “You?”

“Peg’s been here all week,” he replied, as though it were something interesting to discuss. “I’ve been out of the country, got back yesterday morning. Buck and I drove up last night.”

“Ah.”

Damn it. 

Steve had opened his mouth to try again when Wade broke the silence instead, much to Steve’s blessed relief. “Do you think they need us out there?”

Surveying the scene, it was hard to see how they would. Tony, who had been coaxed into wearing the mitt, was dropping the ball every time Bucky threw it to him, and Steve was  _ pretty sure  _ it was deliberate. Antagonizing Bucky was one of Tony’s favorite games. (Bucky liked it, too, otherwise Tony wouldn’t have played it.) Peggy, doting parent that she was, fetched the ball whenever it rolled too far away. Peter and Nat, meanwhile, had sat down on the grass to make what appeared to be a daisy chain. Clint was elbow deep in a cooler full of what Steve hoped were age-appropriate beverages. Knowing Clint Barton, however, he had his doubts. 

“I think they’re...fine,” Steve said after a moment’s deliberation. “This is Nat and Peg’s party, maybe we ought to just watch?” 

Wade seemed amenable to that, especially considering there were special Adult Chairs set up on the sidelines, that even had mesh drink holders built into the arms. It was all very cushy and nice. He and Wade settled in just as one of Bucky’s tosses hit Tony in the shoulder and Tony yelped. Peter and Nat looked up from their daisy-chain-making with some interest as Tony wavered between tears or tackling Bucky. Apparently, the antagonizing Bucky game had turned into the Bucky’s Revenge Saga. (Steve didn’t miss the way Peggy caught his eye and smirked - Bucky doing something that might almost be construed as deliberately  _ bad _ was actually very good, in the pantheon of things Bucky did or didn’t do.) 

Peggy had the situation well in hand. She pulled Tony in for a hug, kissing his shoulder lightly as she sent Bucky to get water for, as it turned out, Steve and Wade. Natasha and Peter, meanwhile, clambered to their feet and went to distract Tony with a daisy chain. 

“Mummy says you’re thirsty,” Bucky informed Steve and Wade, approaching with a water bottle in each hand. The Dads exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them. 

“Sure, pal,” Steve said, reaching out to take the water as Wade did the same. “How’s your brother?”

Bucky glanced back and forth between them, and Steve  _ knew  _ that look. “He’s real bad at catching.” There was a decidedly un-four-year-old gleam in Bucky’s eyes. Steve was pretty sure Wade stuffed his entire fist into his mouth to keep from laughing. 

“Uh huh,” Steve replied, raising an eyebrow and glancing up at Bucky. “Play nice, okay?”

“Sure, daddy,” he said with a grin. “Bye, Uncle Wade.” 

“That was  _ amazing _ ,” Wade wheezed as soon as Little!Bucky was out of earshot. “How did you not  _ laugh? _ ”

Steve shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “Practice? Those two pretty much stay at each other.”

“Thank heavens I don’t have two because I could  _ not  _ pull that off,” Wade said. “You were all, like, gently-correcting-without-shaming…”

Steve looked a little uncomfortable, shifting himself in the chair. “We’ve had -- a long learning curve with Buck because of the…” He hesitated, schooling his features even further. “Peg and I are trying to give him boundaries but also help him out of his shell. It’s challenging.”

“I see,” Wade said, not actually seeing at all but wanting to be supportive. “Good thing for him you’re such a natural at the whole Dad thing, huh?”

Cap actually frowned, shoulders tensing as he cut his gaze forward. “Not really.”

Oh. He’d fucked up somehow. He wished Peter could come over for a moment and interpret Steve’s demeanor for him, because even Little!Spidey was much better at people than him. He was about to prod for more info when, as if reading his mind, Peter called to him.

“Daddy! Daddy, watch me!”

Wade glanced away from Steve to see that Peg and Nat were attempting to start an actual game and Peter was up to bat. “Okay, kiddo!” he called back before returning his attention to his dad!friend. “What do you -- you don’t--feel like you’re…?”

Before he could formulate something more articulate, his Spider-child’s voice rang out again. “Daddy! Daddy, are you watching?”

“Yes, baby, I’m watching!”

Wade tried to keep his eyes on Peter but turn his body toward Cap in what he hoped was a sympathetic manner. Steve was quiet, speaking with some apprehension after a moment. “This is harder than you’d think, right? Or maybe not -- you’re so good with Peter --”

“Uncle Steve!” Peter called, standing with bat in hand while Peggy waited patiently to pitch. Bucky, Tony, and Nat were waiting anxiously in the outfield (well -- Tony appeared to be re-engineering his glove). “Uncle Steve, are you watching?”

“I am, buddy!”

“We’re both watching you, sweet pea, everyone is watching,” Wade reassured, “go ahead and hit now, okay?”

Peter grinned ecstatically and turned to face Peggy with the bat up. Wade and Steve watched as Peggy gave him one right over the plate, and Peter hit it directly toward first base at Natasha who took her time fetching it so that Peter made it safely on base.

“Ah, yes,” Wade sighed, fighting the urge to go help his little guy not suck so very badly. “His, uh -- gymnastic skills don’t really transfer to team sports, you see.”

Cap laughed a little. “At least he’s trying. Do you see what my kids are doing?”

The kids in question were both in the outfield, neither doing anything that resembled paying attention. Tony was actually sitting on the ground, glove in his lap, pulling out the laces as he attempted to improve it? Maybe? Steve wasn’t sure. 

Bucky - who  _ knew how to play baseball, damn it  _ \- was rubbing his eye with his un-gloved hand and casting glances at Tony whenever he thought nobody was looking. Steve wasn’t sure how ‘play nice’ had been interpreted, but it looked like something nefarious was being planned. Still, Peggy probably had it handled. 

“Who…” Wade interrupted his thoughts. “Oh, Clint. This should be interesting.”

Steve smiled, relaxing against the chair. “He’s got good hand-eye coordination - might give your kid a chance to get to second.” 

Wade blinked, and Steve was suddenly struck by the realization that his and Bucky’s slavish devotion to the Dodgers seventy-odd years ago didn’t necessarily translate to everyone’s current experience. Namely: he didn’t know if Wade even  _ liked  _ baseball. As it was, he’d already had to endure a twenty minute lecture from Peg about how cricket was the superior bat-based sport. (Yet she was the one out there playing while he relaxed in the shade. Go figure.) 

“Peter…” Wade said slowly, as if something was dawning on him, just as Clint smacked the ball hard in Tony’s direction and took off for first base. A lot of things happened at once - or, rather, a lot of things  _ didn’t  _ happen at once. Tony looked up disinterestedly as the ball went sailing over his head, Peter looked curiously at Clint, who was barreling in his direction, and Wade shot to his feet. “Run, baby! You gotta go to second!”

The world’s cutest lightbulb went off in Peter’s brain and he ran, steps ahead of Clint. Nobody was going after the ball - Natasha was laughing her ass off and Peggy was massaging her temples with both hands. 

Bucky, a disgusted look on his face, put a hand on his hip and glared at Tony before calling to Steve. “Daddy, Tony’s not  _ trying _ .” 

“I’m  _ busy _ ,” Tony said imperiously, not bothering to look up from his glove. 

Steve hid another smile, watching Bucky’s expression go from disgusted to downright annoyed as both Clint and Peter rounded third. Together. Walking leisurely, because nobody was getting the ball. “Buck, why don’t you get it for him, pal?”

“Because I’m not  _ covering  _ left  _ field _ .” And hearing that come out in Bucky’s Little voice sent a weird rush of pride right through Steve, like maybe his kid was a baseball prodigy.

“Bucky, come on…” he wheedled, watching as Bucky stomped towards where the ball had rolled, about twenty feet behind Tony’s still-seated body. Peggy, sensing the potential for a fight, was quick to follow-up on Steve’s instructions. “Throw it to me, poppet.”

Steve had a feeling Tony would have ended up beaned with another baseball if she hadn’t spoken up.

“We gotta work on the hitting,” he muttered, more to himself than to Wade. Mostly because Wade was watching Clint teach Peter the ‘Homerun’ dance. Which was a thing Clint knew how to do, because he’d hit a homerun. 

“So…” Wade said, sitting down again once Peter and Clint’s success had been successfully celebrated. “Hitting’s new?” 

Damn, he shouldn’t have said that out loud. “It’s...not often. Just with Tony. He never hurts him.” Because maybe Steve was still paranoid that all people saw when they looked at Bucky was what he had _ been _ instead of what he was. Who he was. “Pushes him, throws stuff.”

“Huh.” Wade was quiet for a moment. “You ever think…” He cut himself off, shaking his head.

But Steve was curious. Wade had been doing this longer, he was pretty sure, and he didn’t seem to have the same hang-ups Steve did about certain things. Peter seemed like a perfect kid. “No, go on,” he said, turning his body towards his friend. They had time, considering the ‘teams’ were switching sides. 

“Well,” Wade said, “usually when people try to...piss off the people they like, it’s because they want to prove that uh, those people actually like them. Because they won’t leave, even if they’re pissed off. Not that I know from, say, a great deal of personal experience behaving that exact way or anything.” 

“Huh.” Steve sat back in his seat, realization dawning. Bucky, Steve knew, had never been completely sure of Tony’s forgiveness. So it made sense that the closer they got, the more he’d been testing him. Probably explained why Bucky loved Peter so unconditionally - no baggage. “That’s...you’re good at this. Makes a lot of sense. Bringing Tony into this whole thing has been uh…” He squeezed the arm of his chair a bit too tightly, feeling the metal creak. “It’s had its ups and downs.”

“They were extra cute when they visited us,” Wade assured. “Very big-and-little-bros, he let Tony climb all over him…” (And reveal explicit details about their sex lives [which he knew he would slip up and reveal at some point but today was already awkward enough thank you]).

Steve looked mildly stricken. “Do you think he acts out just when Peg and I are around? Like he’s not sure if we really --”

“No no no no no,” Wade fumbled desperately, “I just meant they seem to really like being Little together even if they pick at each other and stuff. It’s probably, you know -- awesome for both of them to get to act up in a super low-stakes way, yeah?”

“Does Peter ever -- act up?”

Shiiit. “Ooh, well,” he grasped at straws, “you know, for Peter being Little is more just about getting to play and have fun, so, no he -- I mean look at him --”

Wade tilted his head toward the field where Natasha was showing Peter how to slide into base, which Peter found exceedingly entertaining, especially since Tony tapped him in the face with his glove (which appeared to work backwards now) and declared “safe!” every time he did it. Poor Bucky was just running the bases and shouting about how he was getting a grand slam all by himself while Peggy and Clint cheered him on. 

“Truth be told,” Steve said, keeping an eye on Bucky as Peter encouraged him to try sliding. Bucky would do just about anything Peter asked, so it looked like everyone was going to get messy. “I didn’t initially see the appeal. Of the...little stuff. I didn’t understand what he was asking for. I’m still not entirely sure I understand where he goes sometimes.”

It wasn’t easy to admit that out loud to anyone, but if there was anyone else in the world who he could talk to about it  _ not  _ named Margaret Elizabeth Carter, it was Wade. 

Wade. Who was currently regarding him with an odd mixture of what appeared to be delight and trepidation. Something about the expression compelled Steve to keep talking, which didn’t usually happen unless he was, well, nervous. He’d always been very capable of putting his foot in his mouth around pretty brunettes and, apparently, Wade Wilson. 

“I understand it more these days, now that we have...now that everyone’s involved,” he shrugged. “I don’t mean to say I thought there was anything wrong with it before…” 

Wade smiled at that, “you know...there’s a whole thing about that. Your kink is not my kink.”

Steve was aware. He’d been on the Internet. “But it is. My kink. Or it’s getting to be, lately. Now that it’s less about Bucky’s…” He searched for how to phrase it, settling on an explanation. “It used to be more about him processing what had happened to him. I know that - I understand the psychology behind it, much as I possibly can. But when he’s here, or...stuff like this?”

Bucky, covered in dirt from the field, had just stood up to wave to them. Steve waved back, a smile crossing his face.

“This stuff is more...what you’re talking about with Peter. He’s having fun, he’s not...working through something. He’s just playing.” 

Steve had said more in the past two minutes about his feelings on Age Play than he ever had before in his life. Initially, when Bucky had brought it up to him and Peggy, it had been a lot of questions, followed by a willingness to go along with whatever Bucky needed and a refusal to engage with what it meant beyond the surface. Now, well, he had gone in at the deep end of the pool, and he glanced over at Wade for his reaction.

Wade was having a little more trouble than usual processing his emotions. First of all -- Cap had just poured out some serious feels on him. All over him. Like chocolate fudge on a waffle. Drools. But more importantly, Cap was now in a very fraught emotional place (also drools) but now was not the time to indulge in his fetish for Attractive Men in Crisis but to be a real good friend. Bravery time.

“When, um -- sometimes -- I am -- Little…”

He had fully planned on making a sentence out of that, but he found himself pausing, watching as Steve processed that information.“It’s, um,” Wade swallowed, “fun but it’s also, I think about, uh -- dealing with some -- stuff.”

“Do you mean,” Cap asked, carefully, “that you two are both Little together sometimes, or when you’re Little, Peter -- takes care of you?”

“Yeah, that -- that last one.” It had never occurred to him that they could try being Little together (probably because they would destroy their own home) but it was a neat thought that he would save for later when he wasn’t desperately trying to interpret Steve Roger’s visual cues, which was  _ difficult  _ and for which he was starting to think Peggy and Bucky should get medals.

“Huh,” Steve said, considering. “That’s, huh.” He didn’t mean to leave Wade hanging, it was only that he’d never really thought about it before. “And it helps, when he does that?”

“I...yes,” Wade said after a moment’s deliberation. “It works. For us. I hadn’t...done that before, but you said you weren’t sure where Bucky...goes? It’s...probably a little different for everyone.” 

“Sure,” Steve agreed. “I get that. Like, oh...what’s it called now. Sub space?”

Wade did a triple take. A quadruple take. He would never stop taking takes. Steve just smiled. 

“Uh, sure, sub space. Which...we all know about.” 

“Got the terminology off the Internet,” Steve said. “We had it in the dark ages, too, only we didn’t call it anything but a swell evening.” He almost regretted that Tony wasn’t within earshot for that one. He would have been mortified.

“And do you...know about that from...personal experience?”

“Kind of a personal question,” Steve replied, though he was mostly teasing. “But if you’re asking, I would say I’m  _ intimately  _ familiar with the concept, yes. And I’ve wondered for a while how much it has  in common with...well, how Bucky views the world when he’s Little.”

As if on cue, Bucky and Peter started bellowing an  _ incredibly  _ off-key rendition of “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” in an apparent attempt to get Wade and Steve to notice them. To be fair, they had been ignoring the rapidly devolving ballgame in order to give full attention to their feelings. Tony and Clint were conducting. Peggy and Natasha seemed to have given up on the actual teaching of baseball and were eagerly investigating the snack bin. 

Neither of their kids were going to win any awards for musical talent, but Wade and Cap still clapped enthusiastically when they finally, blessedly finished. Their response must have appeased the boys, because before they knew it they suddenly had lapfuls of their kiddos.

“You looked lonely so we sang to you and now you get hugs!” Peter said, wrapping his arms around Wade’s neck and giving him a squeeze.

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed. “Really big hugs.” 

It took Steve a minute to realize  _ why _ Bucky had a shit-eating grin on his face. Because Bucky and Peter had been sliding into the bases. A lot. And they were covered with dirt and dust from the field. Which was now all over Steve and Wade, including Steve’s rather pristine Mets jersey.

(Which...it wasn’t a Dodgers jersey. It was  _ fine _ .)

“Thanks, punks,” Steve said drily. “We really appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome,” Peter replied for both of them, just as Steve got an addition in the form of Tony-on-Bucky. It was a good thing he was strong. Even so, he let out an ‘oof’ when Tony landed. 

“Is sportsball...over?” Wade asked, curious, as Peter pressed his messy face right against his neck, leaving dirt tracks behind. Steve hadn’t spent a lot of time with modern pop culture, or at least not what would be needed to truly catch up, but he understood who Pig Pen was, and all three kids were resembling him pretty heavily. 

“It was...snacks,” Bucky replied, one arm going around Tony’s waist, the other clinging to Steve’s shirt. 

“No,” Peter corrected. “It was the  _ seventh inning stretch _ .”

“We only played  _ one inning _ ,” Bucky retorted, though he was smiling because it wasn’t like he ever actually disagreed with anything Peter said. “So it’s...maybe the one-inning stretch. Maybe.”

“Yeah, it’s the one-inning stretch,” Peter agreed, before looking down at Wade. “Aunt Peggy says I’m a natural.” 

“Course you are,” Wade replied, before actually tickling Peter a little, and that might have been the actual sweetest thing Steve had ever seen. His own arms closed protectively around Bucky’s waist, just because, and he smiled when he felt Bucky relax against him. 

“You guys having fun?” he asked, the question meant for both Bucky and Tony.

“Yes,” they chorused together, Tony turning his head to place a very affectionate kiss to Bucky’s forehead. Which was nice, and entirely unexpected. It made Steve laugh, moving one of his hands from Bucky’s torso to scritch the back of Tony’s neck. Tony wasn’t the  _ most  _ affectionate with Steve, because of, well, so many reasons. But sometimes he could get away with a little something nice. 

Steve was pretty sure he heard a small coo-ing noise from Wade’s direction but he didn’t have time to investigate as Natasha chose that moment to call the Littles to her. All three rushed away with barely a “bye, Daddy!” For a moment, Wade and Steve silently shared the bliss of watching their kiddos run off happily together. Then Wade happened to look more closely at the collar of Steve’s jersey.

“Oh,” he gasped, “oh, Cap -- I’m afraid you’ve been dabbed.”

“What?” Steve tried to look at his collar and couldn’t, but he did suddenly see the nutella finger prints on his shoulder.

“You’ve -- oh, jesus marie,  _ what _ did she give them for a snack?” Wade said, grabbing open his Dad Bag (which he never left home without) and searching for the Wet Wipes. “You’ve been very severely dabbed.”

“Ah, great,” Steve reached to take the wipes Wade offered him and happened to look more closely at his hoodie. “Hate to tell you pal, but looks like you got, uh --  _ dabbed  _ pretty good yourself.”

“Mother of  _ pearl! _ ” Wade wailed as he frantically blotted at the white, sticky marshmallow whip that was stuck in a Peter-shaped handprint on his Hannah Montana hoodie.

“I guess that’s parenthood, huh?” Steve laughed as he helped wipe off a spot of nutella on Wade’s back that he couldn’t reach.

“At least I didn’t get double-teamed -- poor Mets shirt,” Wade mourned as he wiped at the chocolate smudges that appeared to be multiplying on Cap’s back.

“This party looks  _ fun _ ,” observed Clint, who’d approached while they were occupied with each other’s dabs. 

“We were  _ dabbed _ ,” Wade explained, defensively. “You’ve probably also been dabbed and haven’t realized it yet because kid dabs are like  _ herpes. _ ”

“We didn’t let the little darlings touch us once we saw Natasha’s snack concoction,” Peggy informed him, gracefully seating herself in the Adult Chair on the other side of Steve.

“What’s she got them doing now?” Steve asked, giving Peggy a peck on the lips.

“Robot Glamazons Live Action Role Play,” Clint said as he handed both dads a beer.

“Aw, but baseball was going so well,” Wade deadpanned.

“I thought perhaps a game without balls and bats would be less risk-ridden, but --” Peggy trailed off looking toward the other side of the lawn where Black Widow and the Little Avengers were savagely beating each other with pool noodles and laughing maniacally. (Peter was  _ in  _ a tree.)

“It...might tire them out?” Steve offered optimistically. Little naps tended to mean dog piles where everyone got to nap, and that was one of his favorite things. 

“It’s cute that you think so,” Clint said diplomatically.

“You’ve got marshmallow fluff in your hair,” Steve informed him. And sure enough, there was a glob of the white stuff attached securely (and, if Steve were a betting man, intentionally) to the back of Clint’s head. 

“What?!”

Clint wasted no time in making a beeline for the compound, muttering something about shampoo and not putting mayonnaise in his hair to get out fluff, god damn it. 

“Wow,” Wade said, watching him go. “You’d think he would have figured it out when Bucky was so eager to rub his head.”

“Bless Clint,” Peggy said wryly. “He’s so pure of heart.”

“He’s pure of somethin’,” Steve agreed, earning him a smirk and a swat to the leg. 

Wade could have sat there and watched The Incredibly Hot Octogenarians be cute at each other all day, but he was very distracted by what was going on across the lawn. Peter, hanging upside down in a tree, was holding Tony in mid-air and using  _ him  _ as a weapon instead of pool noodles. “I’m gonna go rescue your kids from my kid.”

“No no, Wade, dear,” Peggy said, getting up, “he’s fine. I’ll go give Natasha some back up, you two stay here and have Dad Time.”

Peggy cast Steve a significant smile as she gracefully hurried away. Sigh. She had called Wade  _ dear. _

“Tony’s fine,” Steve reassured him, gesturing at Tony, who was screaming, but possibly in a happy way? “No impulse-control has got to be one of the perks of being Little, right? Letting somebody else worry about what you’re doing?”

“You should try it some time,” Wade suggested before he could stop himself. Cap gave him an uncomprehending look. “Being Little, I mean. It might, I dunno, give you some insights about what that headspace is like.” And you’d be really really adorable probably, Wade kept himself from saying.

“Mmm,” Steve replied, and then he didn’t say anything for a while, which was disconcerting. “I don’t...know if I could. I…” He hesitated, glancing down, then back at Wade. “Well, everyone knows that story. I spent my life being smaller than everyone else.” 

Wade looked thoughtful, considering carefully before speaking. “That’s...yes. But it’s not the same thing, necessarily?”

There was an honest-to-God blush creeping up the back of Steve’s neck, and he sighed. “I’ve never been all that good at letting other people take care of me. Used to get angry at Bucky for trying. It’s...different, with Peggy.” Because (and he wasn’t saying it out loud) Peggy taking care of him was about him ceding control rather than being helpless. Granted, being Little would be voluntary, but it felt different to him in his head. Because heads were funny places. Wade was looking at him curiously, though, so he felt that he had to say something. “She gets me out of my head,” he shrugged. “I think if I were...trying to be Little, I couldn’t let go of feeling stupid.”

“You’d be surprised.  _ And _ ,” Wade couldn’t help his near encyclopedic knowledge of all things kinky from vomiting out of his face, “people age down to different ages, you know. So, you wouldn’t necessarily be, like, playing Robot Glamazons in five-year-old brain -- you might be, like, twelve, or even a teenager.”

Steven nodded, thoughtful. He’d seen Bucky go through a range of ages already, but one of them had been really,  _ really  _ little, and while Bucky didn’t seem to have any trouble processing so many mindsets, the possibility of slipping that far made Steve feel genuinely weird. Afraid, maybe.

“But only if it sounds fun,” Wade said, catching on to his distress. “You shouldn’t do anything that’s not fun, I always say.”

Steve laughed a little - that life philosophy went a long way towards explaining Wade in general. “Fun...maybe,” he agreed, a smile still on his face. “I think I’d have an easier time doing that than...that.” He gestured towards the Littles, who were playing a game that involved spinning in circles until they fell down. “Even when I was actually that age, I had a lot to worry about.” 

Wade had to try  _ sooo  _ hard not to reach out and pet his dad!friend who, he now realized, had been through some  _ really  _ fucked up stuff even before getting frozen for decades. Just as he was about to give in to his impulse, Peggy’s beautifully-accented voice rang across the lawn.

“Steve? Do we have something called  _ Ren  _ and  _ Stimpy?” _

“Oop, that means it’s nap time,” Wade informed him as they both stood to go to their kiddos who were no longer getting up to spin but just laying on the grass.

“I don’t, uh,” Steve answered Peggy as they came to stand with her over the prone bodies of the Littles, “I don’t know if we have that, unless it’s on the Netflix --”

“Daddyyy,” Tony whined mournfully as Bucky giggled, “you  _ know  _ it’s just  _ Netflix _ , say it  _ right!” _

“I brought our box-set,” Wade announced, opening his arms for Peter who had looked up at him  _ very  _ worriedly when the possibility of no  _ Ren and Stimpy  _ had come up. 

“How did you  _ know? _ ” Peter asked as Wade slung him around to hang off of his back.

“I figured we’d all want naps after a vigorous sportsball session,” Dadpool explained, “and you’re a pretty predictable little guy.”

Wade could  _ feel  _ Peter pout. “ ‘m not  _ predictable. _ ”

“Sure, sweets,” Wade teased, bouncing him a bit, “you’re a natural at sportsball, and you’re not predictable.”

“Piggy-back ride!” Bucky announced, leaping up onto Steve’s back before he could fully prepare.

“Okay, buddy,” Steve huffed out as he adjusted to hold his kiddo securely under the knees.

Tony, in a rare display of nonverbal communication, looked up plaintively at Steve and made grabby hands. “Oh, love,” Peggy cooed at him, “do you want to ride Daddy back inside as well?”

Tony nodded, not taking his eyes off Steve and making somewhat more aggressive grabby hands.

Steve, good sport that he was, bent his knees enough that Tony could clamber onto Bucky’s back, giving him somewhere in the vicinity of three hundred and seventy-five pounds of kids to carry. Wade thought he pulled it off with aplomb as he set off at a light jog towards the compound.

Pff. Wade could jog, too. So he did. By the time they reached the side entrance, they were in an actual competition, Peter and Tony egging them on. Bucky just looked fond, and not  _ entirely  _ one hundred percent Little as he snuck a kiss to the back of Steve’s neck when he let Wade win.

No, scratch that, when Wade won of his own volition because he was faster than Cap when Peter was on his back. Peter gave him some sort of superboost, damn it. 

The side entrance led to the private residence, where all the Actual Avengers lived when they stayed on campus, away from where the Baby Avengers hung out. So the risk of them running into any burgeoning superheroes while they were having playtime was slim to none. They deposited the kids on the couch, or at least they tried to, Peter clinging stubbornly to Wade’s back until he fell down with him. 

“Stay,” Peter requested (demanded?) sweetly. How could Wade resist? 

“You know,” Steve whispered to Wade after their kiddos had fallen asleep thirty seconds into one episode of  _ Ren and Stimpy _ , “maybe I’ll talk to Peg about -- the other thing.”

Wade nodded encouragingly at him from underneath his child-blanket. “Can’t hurt, right?”

“Right,” Steve agreed, absently petting the two heads that were resting against his chest. “I’m glad we got to hang out today.”

Wade felt a bubble of warm fuzzies at that and hoped he wasn’t blushing (because he did  _ not  _ have a small crush goddamnit). “Me, three. It’s nice to have a dad!friend.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Dad-friend?”

“Dad!friend.”

*~*~*

“What’d you and Steve talk about?”

“Oh, you know,” Wade mused as Betty Buckley wailed the 37th “Memory” reprise from the speakers of their rented Jeep. “Dad stuff.”

“Dad stuff?” Peter prodded, taking one hand off the steering wheel to poke at him.

“Yes!” Wade yelped, contorting in his seat to avoid being poked. “Private dad business -- we shared our insecurities and  _ comforted  _ one another.”

Peter hummed suggestively. Often, when he’d been Little for a prolonged period, he came out of it even more perverse than usual. “Comforted, huh?”

“Yeah, mostly about how terrible our kids are at playing baseball. What the  _ butts?” _

Peter giggled, evilly. “Ah, that was fun. But seriously, it’s awesome that you two are all close and dad-buddies. Steve needs people he can talk to, he just bottles everything up.”

“Aw,” Wade petted his beloved’s hair as much as was safe while Peter was driving, “good thing I’m used to dealing with the tightest, most bottled bottle in the land.”

Grumpy-Frown #12 appeared on Peter’s face. “ _ What?  _ I don’t bottle. When have I ever bottled?”

Wade giggled and turned up  _ Cats OBC  _ disc 2 over Peter’s increasingly indignant protestations. 

*~*~*

“Did you have a nice time with Wade today?” Peggy asked as Steve kneaded her shoulders, working out all the tension from the vigorous pitching she’d done. Bucky was showering, having insisted that his sweat was neither manful nor attractive (though both Steve and Peggy would disagree). 

“I did,” Steve replied, “we, uh -- talked about some important things.”

Peggy turned to fix him with her lovely dark eyes. “Oh, yes? Dad things?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, smiling. “You didn’t, say, have that in mind when you set up those convenient lawn chairs next to each other, did you, beautiful?”

Peggy gracefully perched herself in his lap with an innocent shrug. “Possibly.”

“You’re not as sly as you think you are, Pegs,” he responded, teasing her a little as he looped his arms around her waist. 

“It worked, didn’t it?” 

She had him there. He hummed in agreement, pressing a few light kisses to her neck. The bathroom door opened a moment after that, Bucky emerging in a towel and affixing them both with a  _ look _ . 

“What’s that for, pal?” Steve asked. 

“I was in there for  _ twenty minutes _ ,” he replied. “I assumed you were both gonna join me.”

“Oh,” Peggy said, surprised. “We thought you were really showering.”

“I was, but...it can be two things!”

Peggy and Steve exchanged a glance before she stood up from Steve’s lap and reached for his hand. “Sure it can, Buck,” Steve said easily. “You wanna try again?”

“We’ll be very attentive, my darling,” Peggy said, teasing him.

“Cracker. Jack.” Bucky said wryly, before opening the bathroom door. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [lomitosupersuavecito](http://archiveofourown.org/users/LomitoSuperSuavecito) for requesting this one and allowing us to indulge in our dad!friend hijinks - this one was so much fun to write! We have more co-writes coming up around the holidays, so stay tuned. 
> 
> If you'd like to follow one or both of us on Tumblr, you can find Crockzilla at [crockzilla](https://crockzilla.tumblr.com) and notlucy at [notlucy](https://notlucy.tumblr.com). See how original and inventive we are with our Tumblr names? You'd never guess it was us.


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